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My Two Jerk Beasts

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When my golden-haired god, my fated werewolf mate comes to me, I would bare myself without a stitch underneath, letting his mouth claim my nipples. The roughness of his skin and beard sends shivers through me, yet I revel in every second of it. It’s an experience utterly different from making love with my vampire boy. The only thing that ever displeases them is how often, in the throes of passion, I call out the wrong name.

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